Ten Districts Away
by anon58
Summary: When Cato's father abandons them, Cato's mother takes them to District Twelve. How will this affect the outcome of the 74th Hunger Games?
1. Chosen

**Cato POV**

"What's your name?" Germanus, the head trainer at the training center leered down at me.

"Cato, sir." I replied.

"Cato, hmm? Are you wise, as your name suggests?" I realized that he was about two feet taller than me and could easily crush me.

"I-I-I think so, sir," I replied.

"Good. Then leave." He spun around and began to walk away.

"W-w-wait!" I cried, "I really need to be here. I want to fight."

Germanus turned around. "Determination. An admirable quality. Defiance, a little less. Stay, then." He pointed to a boy across the room beheading dummies with a sword. "That's Casssius. He's your training partner from now on."

I crossed the room and tapped him on the shoulder. "I'm Cato. We're training partners now."

I stuck my hand out, expecting him to shake it. The boy looked at me carefully. He looked about twelve, my age, but he was taller than me. Suddenly, he swung his sword at me. Without thinking, I ducked and rolled towards the sword rack. My instincts took over and I grabbed a sword off the rack. He began to strike again, but I blocked his sword. The clang of metal resonated thought the training center.

Cassius smirked. "It looks like my new sparring partner knows how to fight."

"Vanity, Cassius," Germanus says, sneaking up behind me. "Keep it in check or it'll get the best of you in the games. Cato, keep up the good work. You might even surpass Cassius." He patted my shoulder.

I think I could get used to this.

**Six Years Later**

** "**I am proud to announce this year's male volunteer tribute for District Two: Cato Aelius!" Germanus shouts to the crowded training center. "When he came to us six years ago, he was the scrawniest kid I've ever seen, but he showed potential."

While Germanus continued his speech, I looked around the crowd. I picked out Clove, the girl who threw knives better than anyone. Shyly, she smiled and gave me a small wave. She was hot, but deadly. When she threw at practice, she never missed a mark. Along the back wall of the center, I saw Cassius. He was leaning against the wall, brooding. He'd been training longer than me so he could be the volunteer in these games.

"And now," Germanus said, breaking my thoughts, "the female tribute for District two. Ladies and Gentlemen, Clove Laelius! Or, better known to most of you as the knife girl."

Clove practically floated up to the stage and before I knew it, her arms were wrapped around my neck in a hug. "We should start talking about strategy. We will win, of course."

Everyone went back to training. With Clove still clinging to me, I made my way through the crowd to Cassius. While walking, I detangled myself from Clove near the knives. Distractedly, she picked one up and admired its shine before throwing it into the heart of a dummy fifty feet away. Wow.

"Hey man, look. I didn't want to take the honor away from you," I began, looking at Cassius, "but I don't even know how Ger-"

"No, YOU look. I've been training for this since I was ten. That's two years more then you. Count 'em, one, two. I'm done with you, man. Find yourself another guy to fight." Cassius walked away. To show how much he hated me, he snaked his arm around Clove's waist and kissed her. She turned and tried to follow after him as he stalked off, but Germanus pointed to a target for her to hit.

Without warning, a person runs into me. Two people, actually. The sobbing, sniffling messes are my little sisters, Aemilia and Valentina. I crouch down to get a better look at them. Puffy eyes, red cheeks… Yep, they'd been crying while running here.

"What's wrong, girls?" I look back and forth between the two of them.

"It's papa," Valentina sobs, "He's fighting with mama again." My little ten year old sister wipes her nose on her sleeve.

Fifteen year old Aemilia stands on her tip toes and whispers in my ear, "He's leaving mom for the lady who sells flowers in the market."

Rage fills me. The flower seller is only a few months older than me. He and my mother were together for a long time. And now he leaves her for someone the age of his son. I scoop up Valentina in my arms and grab Aemilia's hand.

"C'mon girls. We're going home."


	2. Goodbyes

**Aemilia POV**

"C'mon girls. We're going home."

Cato grabbed my hand and started sprinting out of the training center. His soft blue eyes had gone cold with hatred toward our dad. He ran with a determination I had never seen before. Apparently, the father-son bond has been broken.

Valentina lets out a heavy sob and burries her face into Cato's shoulder. "Shh… It's okay Val. Everything's going to be okay." I try to reassure my younger sister, but she continues to sob. Even I don't know if it's going to be fine.

_My life is over. My parents are splitting up. My brother may die soon. How will I survive? Either way, I must stay strong for Val. _I repeat to myself in my head.

We've reached home. Cato opens the door and sets Val on her feet on the floor. "Keep her away from the kitchen at any cost," he said in a low voice. I nod. There are many things that will be said in the kitchen that I know Val is too young to hear, especially from her big brother that she looks up to.

I half walk half carry Val up the stairs. Her room is at the top, around the corner off the right. Gently, I tuck her into her bed and kiss her forehead.

"Milia?" Val's voice is clear but soft between the sobs.

"Yeah?" I reply, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Is everything going to be okay?"

I stroke her hair and smile. "Don't worry, Val. Everything's gonna be fine. Cato will take care of everything. You need your sleep now. Goodnight."

I softly close the door and tiptoe down the stairs. Someone knocks on the door. Oh, great. Just what this family needs, a guest. Angrily, I yank open the door. "What do yo-"

The flower seller. She looked at me with her green eyes and pin straight blonde hair. "Is Antonious here?"

"Why? So you can take him away from his family to start a new one?" My voice surprised me. My voice sounded like snake venom laced with arsenic.

"Y-y-your father's div-v-vorce. It isn't f-f-final. It w-w-won't be. The courts w-w-won't ap-p-prove it."

"I take it then that you're here to say good-bye?" She nodded. "I'll tell him for you. It wouldn't be good for my brother to see you."

Her eyes flashed in recognition. Surely she would never forget a six foot four blonde walking away from the training center across from her both every day. She nodded and turned and quickly ran off into the night. I shut the door and bolted it tight. Spinning on my heal, I walked towards the kitchen door. There were angry, shouting voices behind the door. As I walked in, the angry shouting continued with my mother cowering behind a raving, defensive Cato and my father standing on the other side of the room.

"HEY!" I yelled. Six pairs of eyes flew towards me and a silence settled over the room. "Flower girl came by," I saw Cato begin to work up more rage. "but dad can't leave. The divorce will never finalize. The courts won't approve it."

My father is still registering the news when mom steps in. "Aemilia, Cato and I talked it over. We're leaving District two, whether your father is leaving or not. We're going to District twelve."

District Twelve.

My life is officially over.


	3. A New Place

**Cato POV**

What kind of place is this? Little houses, all crammed together. Barefoot children in the street kicking some kind of makeshift ball. Women hang clothes from clotheslines crisscrossing the streets. Men walking in small groups shouldering pickaxes and covered in coal dust.

A guy comes up to me. He's tall, about my height, with tannish skin. "What are you doing here? Your kind never comes to the Seam."

"I just moved here, man. Right over there. Can I ask how I'm supposed to support my mom and sisters if those sellers keep those prices up?" I gesture to my mom hanging laundry and my sisters playing some kind of hand game. I stuck out my hand. "Cato."

"Gale." He said. "Look, I got a way for you to make some money. You can't tell anyone, even if you chicken. Are you any good with weapons?"

"I'm from District two, of course I'm good with weapons."

He smirked. "Good. Let's go."

Gale ran off away from the rest of the town. The houses started to thin and a fence began to appear with high voltage warnings posted every few feet or so. I skidded to a stop before the fence.

"Look at this." Gale lifted up a portion of the fence. "This is how you'll provide for your family. Many people are looking for fresh meat. If you can catch some and trade it, you'll feed your family. Catnip and I'll help you."

The trees loom in the distance as I crawl under the fence. Gale hands me a knife and motions for me to follow him. The birds are singing in the trees. Suddenly they stop. Off in the distance, I can hear a girl singing an old song: The Hanging Tree.

Sitting on a rock, staring into the distance is one of the hottest girls I've ever seen. Her dark hair was braided down her back in a single braid. When she finished her song, I could hear the birds begin to repeat her melody.

Gale cleared his throat and the girl turned around. "Hey, Gale. I checked the traps and-" She stopped when she saw me. She reached for the bow slung over her shoulder. "Who is that?"

"I'm Cato. I just moved her from District two with my mother and sisters."

She relaxed. "Here." She handed Gale and me a handful of berries each. "And may the odds…" She said, tossing the berries into the air.

"Be ever in your favor!" Gale finished.

I almost forgot.

The Reaping is today.


	4. The Reaping

**Effie POV**

Hooray! The Reaping is today! It's my time to shine on television again! My outfit must be carefully planned. Maybe a blue wig this time? No, maybe the green… But this pink… Pink, yes! I'll wear this pale pink wig this time! And for my suit, I really like this green one. Green and pink, yes. Either way, I'll look better than most of the people out there, especially that drunk mentor Haymitch. If he would just go sober and mentor more, it would make me look so much better…

Either way, it's time for the Reaping! Time for me to meet my new tributes. I hope I pick good ones this year. With only two victors in the past 73 years, District twelve's prospects looked pretty dismal, but I'm sure my outfit looked better.

"Miss Trinket, President Snow is calling." The large mayor of District twelve knocked on the door of my room at the Justice building. What was his name again? Funderlee? Dunderfee? Something like that.

"Of course he is! I'll be right out!" But, I don't know why he would call. I slip on my suit and wig and glide out the room and around the corner to the phone. "Why hello, President! How can I help you this lovely day?"

"Effie, dear!" I can practically smell the roses through the phone lines. "There's something that needs to be done. In District twelve, there's a teenage boy. It's his last year of eligibility. To make the games more interesting, he must be chosen. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Of course."

"Good. No matter which boy's name is picked out of the glass ball, you must call Cato Aelius."

"Got it. Cato Aelius. He doesn't sound like a District twelve boy, though. He sounds more District two-ish. Are you sure you called the right person?" I was thoroughly confused. Why would a person in District twelve have a name like Cato?

"That's the point. Goodbye Effie. And Happy Hunger Games." The line clicks.

The mayor taps me on the shoulder and offers me his elbow. "Shall we go?"

Graciously, I accept and we climb the stairs to the platform. My, what I beautiful day. The sky is clear and the sun is shining. A perfect reaping day. Slowly, the residents of the district begin to fill in. I can tell that they are nervous. Many older people stand along the edge of the group of children. Many have dirty faces and ragged clothes. Why don't they just bathe more? Right, this is District Twelve, not the Capitol.

The clocktower in the Justice Building strikes two and the large mayor stood up. Where is Haymitch? He's late, as always, I guess. The mayor begins his speech about the history of Panem. Blah, blah, blah. I sit in my chair and feign interest while I think about my conversation with the President. Who is Cato Aelius? What if his parents intended on sending him to Two but the plan never went through?

The mayor moves on to reading the list, or, more accurately, the pair of tributes who have won from District Twelve. "Gretta Smith," he says, pausing for applause, "and Haymitch Abernathy."

Just then, he stumbles up onto the stage. He turns to me, confused by the applause. "Effie, darling," he slurs, releasing the heavy smell of liquor, "it's been a while."

I shriek a little as he tries to wrap his filthy arms around me. This suit is too gorgeous to mess up! I manage to push him into his seat before straightening my wig. How disgraceful! We will be the laughingstock of all of Panem.

"And now," the mayor pauses and motions for the crowd to settle down, "I present Effie Trinket."

Happily, I walk over to the podium. "Happy Hunger Games!" I say, widening the smile on my face, "And may the odds be ever in your favor!" I see people in the crowd visibly wince, but it doesn't stop me! "Ladies first!"

I reach my hand into the glass ball and grab a small slip of paper. Why does everyone look so nervous? Being a tribute is an honor! Carefully, I unroll the slip. A long girl's name appears before my eyes.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

The crowd gasps collectively. A woman with messy blonde hair sobs into the arms of a dark haired women as others try to comfort her. The tiny blonde girl, Primrose, walks down the center of the tributes. Oh, great. She'll never win. She's to small and tiny.

Suddenly, a tall, dark haired girl is standing in front of her. She looks strong, and perhaps she could survive to the final five. The stylists would love her, and so would the sponsors. "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

A volunteer? The little girl is screaming now, trying to keep the other from walking up on stage. A tall boy, perhaps the brother of the bigger girl, pries the smaller off her back. He whispers in her ear, and she nods.

"Well, what's your name?" I ask, trying to be cordial.

"Katniss Everdeen."

"I bet that was your sister, wasn't it?" She nods. This confuses me. They don't look alike in the slightest. "Well, let's hear a round of applause for Katniss Everdeen!"

Nobody claps. Not a single person. Great. Even more disgrace on District Twelve. But then, the strangest thing happens. Each and every person in the crowd touches their middle fingers to their lips and then holds them out to Katniss. How strange.

And then, to ruin the moment, Haymitch stumbles over and goes on an angry rand against the camera before falling of the stage and passing out. There goes everything I've worked hard for.

"It's the gentleman's turn now!" I say, drawing the attention back to me. I reach in and grab a single slip. The name Peeta Mellark is on the slip, but it's not what I say.

"Cato Aelius!"


	5. The ride

**Katniss POV**

"Cato Aelius!" Effie shouts into the microphone in her sing songy sickening voice.

Not him. I don't trust him. He's tall, muscular and FROM DISTRICT TWO. How do I know that he won't turn on me the second we get into the arena? Why couldn't someone like Gale be picked? At least I would've known who I would be fighting to the death with.

Cato looks uneasy as he climbed the stairs to the stage. "Now tributes, shake hands." Effie smiled. Cato offered his hand and I shook it. His palms were sweaty. Nervous? He was nervous? Cato had his strength and his looks going for him. Why would he be nervous?

Finally, we were escorted to the Justice Building. Gale, Prim, and my mother came to see me. Even Madge Undersee came to see me, giving me a mockingjay pin I hoped I could wear in the arena. My last visitor was unexpected. She was a girl about my age, a little shorter than me, with hair blonde like my sister's.

"Hey. I'm Aemilia, Cato's sister. You can call me Milia." She stood uncomfortably by the door. "I think it was really brave that you volunteered for your sister. I know I would do the same. Cato and I have a sister who's a little younger than yours."

I smiled. "Thanks, Milia."

"There's something you should know about Cato. We moved here because my father wanted to leave my mother for someone barely older than Cato. But the divorce was never approved and now we're here and he still hates him."

I nodded. "Good luck," she said, ducking out of the room.

The peacekeepers usher Cato and I into a car. A car! I've never been in one of them before, and probably never again as well. Cato slides into the seat next to me and the peacekeepers closed the door behind us.

We sat in silence for a little bit, though I secretly wished he would say something. Finally, he spoke. "I think it's really brave that you volunteered to take your sister's place. A wise man once told me that determination is an admirable quality." He turned to meet my eyes. At that moment, his eyes became the only thing I saw. They were blue, but not like Prim's. They were icy and pale and, above all, gorgeous. I could stare at his eyes forever… Stop it Katniss! You need to focus! He could turn and hurt you at any minute! But his eyes…

"Katniss? Are you okay?" Cato wore a concerned look on his face.

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." Great comeback, Katniss. I scratched the back of my neck uncomfortably. "I, uh, met your sister Milia today. She told me about your dad."

Anger flashed in his eyes. I could feel him tense up next to me. "Yeah. I really hoped I wouldn't be in the Games this year. Back in Two, I would've been fine, but now I'm just leaving Milia to take care of my other sister, Valentina, while my mom works all day. She's only fifteen. I would hate to have that kind of responsibility given to her.

"Sounds familiar," I said, turning to the window. We were passing the mines.

"What do you mean?"

"When I was eleven, there was an explosion in the mines. My mom, Prim, and I ran to the mines with most of the other people in the Seam. We stood around the mouth and waited. People poured out of the mines, but each time fewer and fewer people came each time. When the foreman came out, we knew that he had died. My mom checked out mentally and I was left to raise Prim on my own." I turned to Cato. "At least Milia and Valentina have your mother."

"At least you know that your father died," Cato said, tears beginning to form in his eyes, "and that he isn't alive and with another woman who's only a little bit older than you."

I nodded. Wow. I didn't know that someone who was so tough could cry? Without thinking, I reached up and wrapped my arms around Cato's neck, pulling him closer to me. To my surprise, he wrapped his strong arms around me. Quickly, we both broke the hug and looked at each other.

"Thanks." He said. "But I shouldn't show my emotions. It's blood in the water." He seemed disappointed, but I didn't want to pry farther.

"We don't want to attract any sharks, do we?" I smiled, and he smiled back.

We sat in silence for the rest of the ride, and all I can think of is those eyes.


	6. The Train

**Haymitch POV**

Where am I and what happened? My hurts and the ground is moving underneath me. Did I fall? When did they put me on a train? Slowly, I pull myself to my feet. Ugh, I need a drink. Holding the banister, I stumble to the dining car. Effie and the two tributes are there. Oh great, I have to be a mentor now.

"Well, it's about time someone showed up!" Effie's voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, and her smile was too big for sincerity.

"Whatever. I need a drink." I turn to the liquor on the side table. The Capitol offers a grand selection. Red wines, whiskey, rum… I don't know which I want. I guess I'll just take them all.

Suddenly, a fork comes flying out of nowhere and shatters all the elegant glass bottles. Glass flies everywhere and every drop of liquor drops down onto the white carpet. Reds and browns spill on the carpets. Every last drop.

"Stop drinking, old man. We need a mentor." I turn around and see the big blonde kid ready to throw another fork. The girl has a knife.

Casually, I walk over to the pair and a frightened Effie. "You destroyed my liquor." I slurred, getting ready to punch him. Without realizing it, I'm pinned to the floor of the train, staring into ice cold eyes.

"Well, it looks like I got some fighters this year. Tell you what," I began. He was close to choking me. "I'll stay sober if you do everything I say." My vision begins to blur as I struggle to breathe.

"Sounds fair." He let me go.

"Now," I said, "let's talk strategy, since this one's foaming at the mouth."

"Cato."

"Hmm?"

"My name is Cato. And that's Katniss. Remember it." He stabbed the fork into the table and the girl threw the knife out of the wall, wedging it in between the paneling. Good. Maybe I will remember then. Winners, they may be. But talented, most certainly. I only wish they hadn't destroyed my liquor.

"I'll give you the advice my mentor gave to me: Stay Alive." I lean back in my chair.

"That's all you can give us?" A storm is brewing in the girl's grey eyes.

"Yes, and smile for the cameras. That's how you get sponsors."

The two of them finish their meal in silence. Satisfied, I munched on a piece of bread. How am I supposed to survive these games without the liquor?

Effie tries to make conversation, commenting on manners and how great the games will be. Yay! Children killing each other! How fun!

These games will be the longest if I can't have my liquor. And if I have to be with that squeaky voiced Effie.


	7. Reaping Recaps

**Clove POV**

"Hey babe!" Cassius stuck his head in the room. "Ready to watch the reapings?"

"Of course!" I rolled over on my bed to face him. "I can't wait to see the competition!"

"Okay see you then, babe." The door clicked shut.

Ugh. Why did it have to be him? Even since Cato was chosen, Cassius has made me his girlfriend. But not really. He's so vain, he'll do anything to win over the hearts of the citizens. I really liked Cato, as a best friend, that is, although Cassius perceived my friendship as a relationship.

I got up and pulled a sweatshirt over my head. Cassius smirked and patted the seat next to him on the couch. Brutus, Enobaria, and our escort Tillie sat on the couch across from him. Brutus and Tillie sat talking about strategy. Enobaria looked at me and nodded slightly. She knew that Cassius and I weren't really a couple. Even though she was a brutal killer, she still had a women's intuition.

Cassius wraps his arms around me and plants a kiss on my cheek. I can hear Tillie gasp. "Are you ready to see out competition?"

"Sure." I mumbled.

A pretty, blonde girl volunteers for One, along with a strong boy about Cassius's height. Then I see myself volunteer, and Cassius volunteering. I internally cringe when I see him bound up the stage and kiss me. Ew. The tributes from Three look like they haven't slept in weeks. The boy from Four is young, but the girl looks like she could be a strong ally. The girl from Five has shockingly red hair. The boy looks like he is confused. I see nothing special about the tributes from Six and Seven. The girl from Eight is young, and the boy has to detangle himself from several young girls. Districts Nine and Ten present little appeal as allies. District Eleven surprises me. The female tribute is tiny, perhaps twelve years old. The male tribute is her opposite: a huge guy who might be worth allying with.

District twelve surprises me even more. A brunette girl volunteers for a small blonde girl. Nobody ever volunteers in Twelve. And then I see him. Cato.

Cato is the male tribute for District Twelve.

Unfortunately, Cassius sees this too, along with Brutus, Enobaria, and Tillie. At first, nobody moved. Then, Cassius stood up and picked up the nearest piece of silverware leftover from dinner. Angrily, he threw it at me. It wedged itself in the boards of the wall of the train, just inches from my head.

"What are you doing!" Brutus thundered, throwing him to the ground. "You nearly wedged a fork into your girlfriend's face and nearly cost her life and yours!"

Tillie helped me off the couch as Enobaria and Brutus continued to scold Cassius.

"You aren't really dating him, are you?" Tillie asked when she closed the door to my compartment.

"No. You remember seeing the guy from Twelve?" She nodded. "Well, he used to be from Two. We were friends, all of us were. When Cato was going to volunteer, Cassius tried to get back at him by kissing me. From then, he just kinda decided we were dating."

"Play it up. The Capitol loves a good romance. If you really don't like him, sabotage him. Sabotage is the only way to go. Just make sure nobody knows about it. and, if he knows what's good for him, he won't "break" your heart while you're in the Capitol."

She's right. If I can't kill him, I can sabotage him. Let the games begin, Cassius. Let the games begin.


	8. The Parade (Part I)

**Cassius POV**

"You look stunning!" My stylist chirped. I had forgotten her name already. She was of little importance to me, so why should I bother to remember her?

She turned me to the mirror. She was right, of course, I did look stunning. But, then again, when did I not? She had outfitted me with Roman style bronze armor. The chest plate molded perfectly around my torso, showing off all of the muscles I had. The metal skirt? Not the best part. But it would be better than what Cato and the District Twelve girl. I wonder what they'll be this year, skimpy coal miners or coal. Whatever it is, I'll look better in my man skirt.

My stylist is putting the final touches on my outfit. She is defiantly a Capitol freak. Her green hair is swirled like a dollop of cream on top of her head. Her skin is dyed orange and her skin is encrusted with jewels. She places a winged crown on top of my head and fastens a heavy bronze chain mail cape to my shoulders.

Tillie knocks on the door. "It's time to go to your chariot! Clove is waiting for you." She leads me down a labyrinth of corridors the open to a large warehouse like room lined with chariots. Clove stands next to the second one in from the right. Her armor is just like mine, a perfect match. The girl she is talking to, District One, is wearing an insane amount of feathers and a glittery dress that reflects way too much light. The male tribute from One is eyeing Clove while she talks. My Clove.

In a few strides, I am across the room, not looking at any of the other tributes lined up against their own chariots. I wrap my arm protectively around her tiny waist. The girl from District One meets my eyes with her green ones and she flashes me a smile with perfect white teeth. I can't help but notice her glitter covered chest puff up a little when I flash her a sly grin of my own.

"What are you looking at, District One?" I ask turning my attention to the boy standing next to her. I pulled my Clove closer to me.

"Just admiring the wonderful job your stylists did. I wish I had your armor over my pink feathers."

I scoffed. "At least we aren't coal miners or lumber jacks." The group laughs.

"Of course! So, are we going to talk about the alliance this year?" District One shifts the conversation.

"I've decided that we aren't having one this year." I want to win this one on my own. Allying myself with them would just slow me down.

The boy looks surprised. "But there's always a Career pack! Every year."

"Times are changing, of course. It's the seventy fourth time we've done this. Isn't it getting a little old?"

"Of course." The boy turns around and helps the girl get into the chariot. I sweep Clove off her feet and set her down gently into the chariot. I swoop in and kiss her on the cheek. She smiles to herself.

District One's chariot begins to roll out, and mine follows after. I am met by adoring fans, blowing kisses and throwing flowers. I stare straight ahead, my arm wrapped around Clove. She smiles and waves at the fans. Suddenly, the fans are louder and louder. Nonchalantly, I turned my face to the monitor, expecting to see my face blown up on the screen. But instead, I see District Twelve. The tributes on fire have captured the hearts of the Capitol. Cato has stolen my honor once again.

I can't wait for the games to begin.


	9. The Parade (Part II)

**Cato POV**

Us. The cameras are on us.

Katniss stands next to me smiling and waving at the people. She looks up at me and gives me a nervous smile. I smile back. "Don't worry, you won't fall." I whisper.

"I'm still allowed to be afraid." She whispers back. I wrap my fingers around her hand. I can see her shoulders relax. Suddenly, a rose comes flying out of the stands. I watch her delicately catch it in her fingers and sniff it before blowing kisses to the audience. They roar with delight, people trampling others to catch her kisses.

I looked at the monitors lining the street. Katniss's smiling face and my smirk gracing every one of them. The chariot comes to a stop by a balcony. I can see President Snow on the top. Every tribute is looking up at him. Across the semicircle of tributes, I can see Cassius staring at me, his arm wrapped around Clove's waist. I think back to what Germanus said in my first week of training, "Don't let others inside of your head. Don't let others see what you're feeling."

Cassius had never paid attention in Germanus's classes. He had only been at the training center to learn how to fight. Based on the looks of others around him, especially Clove and the District Ones, the alliance of the Career tributes will not be happening. Germanus's classes on observation were very effective.

Katniss squeezes my hand. "The President finished his speech." she whispered.

The chariots begin to pull us back. There's more cheering and more glaring from Cassius. There's a quick silent dinner involving Effie and Haymitch complaining about Katniss's reaction to the parade and my inability to react more like her.

Before I know it, everyone has left. The redheaded Avox is clearing away the leftover dishes. I smile and nod goodnight, and she nods back.

I knock on Katniss's door. She opens, wearing sweatpants and a plain grey t-shirt. Instead of having her hair in a tight braid, it falls down her back in soft waves. I can't believe how natural she looks after the fact she was on fire only a few hours ago. Literally.

"Hey." I lean against the doorframe and give her a small wave.

"Hey." She replies. "Thanks for, you know, holding my hand on the chariot. It made me feel a lot safer."

"Anytime. It's how I calm my sister Valentina down, especially when she's crying over my father."

She nods. "I did the same thing with Prim when our father died."

"Well, I just wanted to say that you looked gorgeous today. You truly are the girl on fire."

"And you looked pretty good yourself," Katniss said, "I mean, you made District Two Jealous. I can see why now you don't want to show emotions while you're here."

"Yep." I smiled. "I just came by to wish you good luck in training tomorrow. Just remember to not show off to much but not seem to weak. Also, get all your emotions out soon!" I smiled.

Katniss giggled. Without warning, she threw her arms around my neck. I wrapped my arms around her waist. I was thankful for her embrace.

"Thank you" she said, her voice muffled by my shirt.

"Anytime." I replied, whispering into her hair.


	10. Training (Part I)

**Katniss POV**

_"Katniss? Katniss? Can you here me? Are you there?" Prim called out. I can see her blonde curls dancing in the darkness. "Katniss? Are you there?"_

_ "I'm right here, little duck!" I call out. "Come here, I'm right over here!" I try to move, but my feet are stuck._

_ "Katniss! Where are you?" Prim continues to shout frantically._

_ "It's okay Prim. I'm here." Gale appears and kneels in front of Prim. She wraps her arms around him. "We just have to accept that she's gone forever, just like our fathers."_

_ "I wish she was here." She sobs_

_ "I am here!" I shout. "I'm right over here!"_

_ Cassius emerges from the darkness. "Not for much longer, sweetheart." He lunges at me with his sword drawn and…_

I wake up and gasp, abruptly sitting up and clutching the blanket to my chest. It was just a nightmare. Prim and Gale know I'm alive. Cassius is ten floors below me. I am still alive. And, I need air.

I slide open the door and peek around the corner. The last thing I want to do is get caught breaking curfew. Nobody is moving in the hall. I slip out and quietly slide the door behind me. I creep into the common room, hoping to find a comfortable spot to watch the rain fall on the Capitol.

"Bad dream?" Cato's voice startles me.

"Yeah. Prim was crying. Gale kept talking about me like I had died. And then Cassius appeared out of nowhere and tried to stab me." I sat down on the couch and hugged my legs close to my chest.

Cato sits next to me and pulls me close to him. "It's the stress. It must be getting to you. I had a similar dream on the train. Here, try some of this. It'll calm you down. It's called hot chocolate." He hands me a steaming mug of pale brown liquid.

It's the most delicious thing I've ever had. The creamy, rich, sweet liquid melts away all my fears. "Thanks, Cato. It's just what I needed."

"That usually does the trick for nightmares."

We talk for a few hours before we both fall asleep. The morning sun wakes us up as it rises over the mountains. I find myself curled up next to Cato, his arm wrapped around my shoulder. I look up at him and smile. He smiles back.

"We better get back to our rooms before Effie and Haymitch wake up and realize we're missing from them."

I giggle as he picks me up and carries me back to my room. "Thanks Cato."

It's only a few minutes before Effie is knocking on my door and I'm swept up into the formalities of breakfast and dressing for training. Before I know it, Cato and I are standing in the doorway of the training room. Stations line the wall. All different aspects of survival are covered, from fire building to swordplay to disguising yourself.

"You want to go try fire building?" Cato asks, pointing to a station on the far wall. The instructor is helping the tribute from Eight with her pile of kindling.

I shrug. "Why not?" I look up at Cato. His face is completely void of emotion. I try to do the same. Emotions are not what others should be seeing right now.

"Hello! Good morning District Twelve!" the instructor chirps sunnily. "Happy Hunger Games!" A fake smile plasters her face. I grimace internally. How can Capitol citizens be so oblivious?

Cato and I begin to work on building a fire. Across the room, I can see a pair of tributes watching us and whispering. I recognize them as the pair from District One. I elbow Cato and jerk my head in their direction. Cato looks up and mutters something under his breath about it being about time.

"Hi Cato!" the perky blonde says as she sashays towards Cato, placing her hand on his arm. "My name is Glimmer. I'm from District One."

"Hello, Glimmer." Cato replied evenly, removing her hand from his arm. He continued to build a fire.

"I'm Marvel, Glimmer's District partner." He and Cato shake hands. "So, um, Clove sent us to talk to you cuz Cassius won't let her out of his sight. Anyways, Cassius changed his mind and the Career pack is happening, mainly to keep Clove away from you. But to all of us, it's a way to sabotage him."

"Can you help us? Like, you wouldn't be in the alliance, but we would help you if you helped us. I guess." Glimmer looks confused by her own statements. At least she isn't flirting with Cato anymore.

"I'm sorry. Katniss and I are a team. If she isn't a part of this, I'm not." My heart leaps for some reason when he mentions that we're a team. I also notice a surprisingly steely edge in his voice.

"Who's Katniss?" Glimmer asks, the flirty edge in her voice missing.

Cato rolls his eyes. "I'm right over here" I said, waving.

Glimmer walks over slowly and circles me. "Let's see… Dark hair, olive skin, grey eyes… You must be from the Seam." I nod. She turns to Cato. "She's from the Seam. I won't ally with some who doesn't know the difference between attack stances."

"She's right. We were taught never to ally with Seam." Marvel's eyes are cold and hard.

"Then I guess you've lost me," Cato shrugs, "because that's where I live now." Glimmer and Marvel stare at him, mouths hanging open. "Of course, if you were to change your minds, then maybe we could help you."

Marvel marches up to me. He's only a tiny bit taller than me, no more than a quarter or two of an inch. "Prove yourself, Katniss."

I peek around him and meet Cato's icy eyes. He nods slightly. I shrug and walk over to the archery station. The bows are all different shapes and sizes. I search through them until I find one that looks like mine from home. It's drawn slightly tighter, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem. I pick up an arrow from the sheath and notch it onto the bow. I sigh, draw my bow, and aim right for the dummy's throat. The arrow flies from the release and sinks deep into the dummy's chest. Fake blood gushes, drenching the thin fabric in red. A kill shot.

Once again, Marvel and Glimmer are speechless. The pair whispers with Cato, and then hurry across the room to where Clove is throwing knives under Cassius's watchful eye. I walk back over to where Cato is building a fire.

"What did you tell them?" I asked.

"I said yes to the secret alliance. We're both in it. And, they promised to get you a bow from the Cornucopia. I'm not letting you get too far into that bloodbath."

His attention returns to the sparking fire.

I remember how every year since my father died, I had to shield Prim's eyes from the first blood of the Cornucopia. My father used to keep us both protected, but I had to protect Prim, forcing me to watch it. Some years, over half the tributes died in the fist hour. Others, few. District Twelve rarely survived past the first hour, with at least one usually dying.

I think of Prim, and how in my dream she thought I was dead. In some ways, I wished I was.

At least she would have closure.


	11. Training (Part II) Getting to Know You

**Clove POV**

"Hey Clove, will you go with me to the women's restroom?" Glimmer asks, sashaying up. Marvel follows close behind.

"No, she's training." Cassius replies for me. I hate it when he does that.

"Hey man, I think you need to give her a break at least or a few minutes. She's been throwing knives all morning." Marvel's eyes meet mine and he nods slightly. The signal. Glimmer has something she needs to tell me in private.

Cassius sighs. "Fine. Five minutes. I'm timing you."

Glimmer grabs my hand and sprints off to the bathroom, nearly tripping me in the process. "You have five minutes and I have ten minutes of news."

When we enter the bathroom, the female tribute from District Six is there, poised to shoot a dose of a clear liquid in her veins. She gasps and her eyes widen. Typical District Six morphling addict. She begins mumbling excuses, but I cut her off.

"Look, we won't tell." I said.

"How can I know I can trust you?" She suddenly becomes aggressive and defensive.

"What would we have to gain by turning you in?" Glimmer chimes in.

She looks between us for a minute. Then she injects the dose, throws out the needle, and turns to leave the bathroom.

"So, spill." I turn to Glimmer.

"Well, Cato is in on the alliance, but we had to agree on some of his terms. For example, the female tribute has to be in on it." I recall the female tribute from Twelve. She volunteered for her sister. A tall guy detangled them and she walked up on stage. "Also, she's scary good with a bow, so we promised we would get her one if it was in the Cornucopia. Her name is Katniss and Cato will be really mad if you don't remember it."

"She probably earned a lot of sponsors too with that outfit she had." I mused. "It's worth giving her a shot. Either way, the odds are not in her favor for surviving the first bloodshed."

"We promised she'd be safe. I think Cato likes her. There's something about her that just seems… genuine. Like she has a reason to win beyond honor and glory for her district."

Someone knocks on the door. "Hey babe! Time's up!" Cassius yells through the door.

"I'll find a way to talk to her at some point." I whisper to Glimmer. She nods.

I return to throwing knives over and over again. Cassius watches me, critiquing my form, even though I had never seen him at the knife station back home. What was up with him?

Dinner was incredibly bad. Cassius treated me like a trophy, bragging to Brutus about how amazing I was at throwing knives and how I never missed my target, not even once. How I hit the kill shot every time. How I only took two five-minute breaks.

After dinner, Cassius escorted me to my room. I whispered good night and closed the door on him. I thought he would just go away, like he always did, but this time, he snuck in and tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned around, he kissed me forcefully and wrapped me in his big arms. He pushed me against my bed, pinning me under his weight. His fingers grazed the edge of my shirt and he tried to lift it.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, finally managing to push him off of me.

"I was planning to spend the night with my girlfriend." Cassius said, looking hurt.

"Please let me rest. I was training for nearly eight hours straight today."

"Well, I wasn't," he replied, leaning in to kiss me again.

"Cassius! You are in direct violation of several policies held about relationships between tributes!" Tillie yelled, entering the room.

Startled, he left, his cheeks flushing red. I smiled. "Thanks Tillie."

"Anytime. The only rule for tributes is actually that you have a curfew. Other than that, there really isn't anything." She turned and left.

I waited about ten minutes before slipping out. I could hear Glimmer laughing and Cassius talking. She was distracting him and keeping him occupied so I could meet this Katniss girl. I slipped into the elevator and pressed the twelve button. After a few seconds, the doors spilled light into a dimly lit common room. A girl was curled up on the window bench on the far wall, staring at the lights of the Capitol. Quietly, I walked across the room.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I asked. She turned around, startled. "When I was a little girl, I used to look out my window at night and see the glow of the lights through the mountains and wonder what it would be like to live in the Capitol."

" I could never see the lights of the Capitol. In fact, most nights, I forgot it was there. I could only see the lights of the square from the Seam," she replied.

"My dad used to tell me fascinating stories about the Capitol. He talked a lot about their crazy fashion trends." It was time for me to figure out anything I could about her. "What were your parents like?"

"My dad died when I was young, and my mother just sort of disappeared. I raised my little sister on my own and then volunteered for her when I realized she was going to die in the arena," she said, "and that's what brought me here."

"I knew there was a reason," I muttered.

"What?" She asked.

"I knew there was a reason Cato wanted you around. You have motivation and drive. You have a reason to fight in the arena that's not the honor from your district," I smile. "But now, I have to get back to my floor before Cassius knows I'm missing."

"Clove?" Cato appears in the room, holding two steaming mugs. Hot chocolate. Nightmare food. "What are you doing here?"

"I was getting to know Katniss before getting into the arena with her. I hate going into things blind," I said backing up towards the elevator. I press the down button and the elevator dings open. "I'll see you guys tomorrow for the interviews, I guess." I turn around and step into the small elevator. As I turn around, I can see Cato and Katniss sitting on the window seat, sipping hot cocoa. As the doors close, I can hear them laughing.

When the doors open on the second floor, I can still hear Glimmer and Cassius, but they aren't talking anymore. I slip into my room and slide into my warm bed.

Someone knocks on my door. "Are you there Clove?" Glimmer whispers.

I get up and answer the door. "Yep," I replied, "and you were right. She's a good choice for an ally."

"Of course she is." She glances around. "I've gotta go. Marvel and I are strategizing tonight."

"Goodnight then," I said, shutting the door. I curled back into bed and shut my eyes. I hope this will all be over soon. I rub the bruises Cassius gave me a few days ago on my shoulder, trying to not think of the coming days as I drift off to sleep.


	12. Training (Part III)

**Seneca POV**

"Mister Crane? Breakfast is on the table," one of the maids said. She's one of the two that aren't Avoxes. It's helpful to hear a human voice sometime.

"I'll be right out. Is Lucretia out there? She wasn't here when I got up," I replied, hoping that my wife wasn't out shopping on one of the most important days of my career.

"Yes, she is Mister Crane," the maid shouts through the door. I fold up the last of my papers and store them in the door of my desk.

"Seneca!" Lucretia shouts when I walk into the dining room. "I was just about to see about getting you myself. I have a surprise for you: I helped the cooks make you breakfast this morning!"

"Wonderful, dear," I replied. Sitting down, I quickly turned my interest to the tablet displaying today's headlines. My picture was there, of course, being head Gamemaker and all.

"Aren't you going to eat something? Today's a big day!" my wife smiles.

"Maybe later," I said, trying to look sorry. "I'm not very hungry today."

Truth was, I was starving. But Lucretia had a history of poisoning her husbands right before the apex of their careers. Mine was today, my debut of head Gamemaker. I had never thought I would have made it to this point, of course. That's why I thought it would be safe to marry her. That and, when she wasn't using too much arsenic and cyanide, her cooking was phenomenal.

I stand up and walk over to her. "Good bye, sweetheart. The others can't wait much longer for me." I plant a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Good bye," she uttered, clearly upset I hadn't eaten anything.

The warm summer air greets me as I walk out onto the crowded Capitol streets. Random people come up to me, patting me on the back and applauding me for gaining the coveted position. But mostly, I'm ignored. I haven't had any alterations, making me an odd man out in the Capitol. The walk to the Training Center is only a block away, so I don't mind it.

"Welcome, Seneca!" Plutarch shouts, slapping me on the back. "Congratulations on the promotion! You earned it."

"If you keep up the good work, you might be next," I joke. We laugh. Plutarch knows he's not the right fit for head Gamemaker.

I am greeted warmly by several other colleagues, like Quinta and Numeria, sisters who I consider to be the best mutt creators around and Marcius, who is the best at making natural disasters. They all congratulate me on my new position, all trying to get me to pick them to be my successor.

An Avox girl taps me on the shoulder and points to the stairs leading to the observation deck. It's time to supervise training. It's a twelve point system we use. Each tribute comes in and shows off for about fifteen minutes. We award points to attitude, style, accuracy, and manners. A majority of the points are based on the skills displayed, however. But we like to throw in the other points just so no one does badly. If a tribute earns 1 to 3 points, they are deemed undesirable. Most tributes earn and acceptable 4 to 7. Tributes in some districts generally earn an 8 to ten. Some earn elevens, but not many. Nobody has ever gotten a perfect twelve.

The first tribute enters the room. He shows excellent use of trapping skills by creating a rope net and camouflaging it well. His use of spears and knives aren't to bad either. His first spear, however, fails to hit the target. I mark a 9 down on my sheet. He's impressive, but not that impressive.

The girl from his district is next. She manages to hit a few targets with a bow before being dismissed. "I can do better!" she screeches as peacekeepers drag her out. I give her a 9.

The boy from two doesn't acknowledge that we are here watching him. He simply picks up his sword and beheads seven dummies. He had the skills, but the attitude of a child in school who didn't want to be there. 9.

The girl from two is scary good with knives. 10.

The girl from seven cuts down dummies quickly with an axe and manages to hit a bulls-eye from 25 feet. 9.

The girl from eight stands in the middle of the room and smiles before hurling a knife at a dummy. 8.

The boy from eleven throws a large weight across the room and lodges it in the target. 10.

The boy from twelve is similar to the boy from two, but with better manners and enthusiasm. 10.

The girl from twelve walks in and picks up the bow and notches her arrow. She misses the target, so I turn my attention away from her. I just put here down as a 5. That's what most female tributes from twelve get anyways. The fact that the kitchen has brought in a pig is distracting to me. Quinta and Numeria are eyeing the lamb stew. Plutarch is getting punch, and Marcius is munching on a piece of bread.

Suddenly, an arrow flies inches from my face and lands in the apple in the pig's mouth. Plutarch falls backwards into the bowl of punch. The bread in Marcius's hand drops the floor. I turn. The girl from twelve meets my eyes.

"Thank you for your consideration," she said curtly before spinning on her heal and leaving. I look down at the mark I have made beside her name. Carefully, I erase it and write 11 down beside it. She will make an interesting opponent in the arena.

"What did you give her? I hope it's a 2. These robes don't clean themselves, you know!" Plutarch barks.

"No," I replied. "I gave her an 11." Plutarch looks as though he's going to explode. "This means that people will be looking to knock her out early."

Realization sets in on his face. "I get it. What a very sneaky trick, Head Gamemaker Crane."

I smile, but inwardly I am uneasy. What if I'm wrong? I almost hope another tribute will get their hands on her, because if Plutarch does, it will not nearly be as pretty.


	13. The Scores

**Cassius POV**

"Cassius!" Brutus barks from the main room. "Get in here!"

Groaning, I roll off the bed and walk into the room. "What's so important? Why can't I relax in peace?"

"The training scores are up," Clove replies. She's sitting on the couch, her knees tucked under her chin.

"Why didn't anyone tell me sooner?" I shout. Honestly, my mentors are worth nothing if they can't help me figure out how to win? I cross the room and flop on the couch next to my girlfriend, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. She recoils at my touch. Angrily, I looked at her. Why would she treat me this way? I was dating her. She was mine. Hesitantly, she slides closer to me, allowing me to wrap my arm tightly around her shoulders.

The Capitol seal flashes across the television, followed by the commentators whose names I can never remember or care about. That guy from One, Marvel, earned a nine. I scoff. Amateur. I guess he hadn't trained that long. I would do better than that, of course. Glimmer earned a nine as well, but she was more of a ten to me.

Then I see my face flash on the screen. I looked good in that picture, of course. I always looked good. Then I see the number next to my name. 9.

The world stops around me. All seven years of my training were now for nothing. A nine. Nobody will sponsor a nine. Clove's face is on the screen next, a ten displayed for all to see.

My grip tightens around her. "Congratulations, babe," I whisper through gritted teeth.

"You're hurting me, Cassius," she whispers back, pain laced in her voice. I see Enobaria and Tillie tense up on the other side of the room.

I relax a little, releasing my grip on her shoulder slightly. Enobaria and Tillie clearly relax, but I don't. How could she get a better score than me? I'm supposed to be stronger than her. But whatever score I got, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as what that District Twelve loser got. I zone out for the rest of the scores. Frankly, I don't care about the other tributes. All I care about is beating Cato.

Then I see his face on the screen. And the number. 10. He beat me. Slowly, I stand up and walk across the room. The dining room chairs line the side of the room. Without hesitation, I picked one up and hurled it across the room. It smashed into hundreds of splintering pieces. Clove, looking scared out of her mind, stands up and hurries towards her room.

"Hey!" I shouted, running after her. I grab her wrist.

She yelps in pain. "Cassius! You're hurting my wrist!"

I drop her wrist like it had burned my hand. She sprints to her room and I hear her lock the door with a thunk. I run my fingers through my hair. My life is spiraling downwards faster than I can imagine. Cato is doing better than I am. Clove hates me. Two of the three people who are supposed to help me are against me. I turn and punch the wall. Suddenly, I feel rage take over me. My vision blurs red. Everything around me seems able to be broken. The wall, the doors, the tables. Everything goes blank for a minute. When my vision returns, I can see everything around me broken. Shards of glass, splinters of wood, even bits of fabric litter the ground.

Clove peaks out from her room. Her eyes widen and her mouth hangs open. "Clove, I-" I begin. She shakes her head, still in awe, cutting off my apology. Silently, she closes the door.

"Cassius," a stern voice said. I turn around and see Brutus staring at me. "Save the anger for the arena."

"How do I win Clove back?" I mutter through gritted teeth.

"It's simple," he replied. "She won't listen to you now, so give her a chance to cool off. Wait until the interview. When that comes, overcompensate with apologies."

That's exactly what I plan to do. Maybe I can still take my life in my hands. But now, I don't care about winning. I just want to see the look on Cato's face when he dies.


End file.
